Mystery Man

That one night is s vivid still. All these years and for some reason I thought maybe it would just go away.

The pain and torment would just some how leave.

Some how it would be forgotten.

It has left my parents mind and still it stays in mine.

It haunts my thoughts and even sometimes my dreams.

Always it is there and never goes away.

It stays and torments me and it will continue to do so for the rest of my life.

I was young. Age doesn't really matter.

Because at any age it is wrong.

But I was about six or seven.

We lived in apartments and I was on the second floor.

How he got up there, I do not know.

Who he is, another question I do not have the answer to.

My mom left my window open on accident.

I don't blame her. Maybe I did when I was younger, but now I know she wouldn't do that on purpose.

It was so long ago, yet it is still there.

So clear. So fresh. It was like it happened yesterday.

I woke up half way through. I do not know how I slept through that, but some part of me is glad I did.

My pants were down, along with my underwear.

I was on my back and whoever the mystery man was, was touching me.

Doing things no man should do to a little girl.

I laid there for two hours. Acting like I was asleep.

Faking the whole time.

Then came the flashes.

He took pictures of me and to this day I do not know where they are or if whoever it was showed it off as some sort of sick twisted prize.

After whoever was done and left out the way they had came I continued to lay there with my pants down.

The monster left me like that.

he just left as if nothing ever fucking happened.

To this day I blame myself for not screaming.

Not stopping it or at least seeing who the monster was that fucked me up for life.

The one who has ruined me beyond repair.

I am just a broken, scared little girl in this big world..

I cried to my mom the next day and blamed my dad.

Who to better point the finger at?

Right?

Now looking back I know it wasn't him.

I just knew but I needed closure.

I need it at six years old and I sure as hell still need it now.

I even had my mom search the computer and camera.

Of course nothing came up.

My dad was heartbroken.

He was at work when he got the phone call and he cried and cried. The guilt of me blaming my dad still eats at me.

But I do not think he remembers. My parents just seemed to shut it out.

And here I am writing about it.

Talking about it.

Crying about it.

I blame myself everyday.

I should have done something.

Screamed and maybe they would have got him.

He would be in jail away from all the other childern out there.

If I would have done soemthing maybe some people would have never gotten touched and fucked up for life like me.

I could have stopped him and it is my fault.

But like I said before.

I am just a scared little girl in this big world..